Read Part One here.
MY COOL BOSTON GUY
I looked at Josh like he was the greatest thing in the world.
We were surrounded by magnificent buildings and views in the center of Manhattan on 51st and Lexington, taking a break at a peaceful fountain on our trek to my apartment.
But the cityscape didn’t matter.
The fact that I was starving didn’t matter.
All that mattered was him at that moment. And I couldn’t help but smile.
He always seemed to have this adventurous look in his eye, like he was ready to take over the world but couldn’t bear the thought of stepping on other people to get there. It was pure. And it was something that made him so different from all the other ambitious men I’ve encountered. We shared that same outlook. We both have deadly ambition with an intent to love life.
Josh didn’t get to Midtown very often and was amazed by how tall the buildings are compared to Harlem where he lived. I loved how fascinated he was by the city and its personality. His fascination sparked that same feeling in me, and I felt like I was experiencing New York for the first time.
We were starving even though we went out to dinner. My fabulous coworker Giselle recommended this bomb place for Josh and I to go to, but being the broke bitches that we were, we settled for an appetizer and wine. Of course the bartender knew Giselle and hooked us up with a delicious shot of something wickedly fantastic, so we scored there. But still. We were hungry, and found ourselves stopping at McDonald’s on the way home.
That’s another thing I loved about Josh. He was a down ass bitch, and usually I would probably be embarrassed to go to McDonald’s with a guy on our second date but Josh was down to clown! We had the same humor about our fast food date and we quoted Mean Girls to each other in between bites. We also made fun of the fact at how Monica Geller I am with my incessant need to host dinner parties, clean and be number one, and his Chandler Bing type tendencies that included not caring and making fun of how ridiculous I am. We’d go back and forth and he would say things like, “It’s just always all about you isn’t it?” and I would be like, “The sooner you get that, the better off you’ll be.”
I’m a messy eater, like literally the most disgusting human being when I devour a meal. I somehow forgot to take princess bites like how I usually do on dates and caught gross self in the mirror next to us.
“I’ve never been more attracted to you,” Josh said.
We both started laughing and I delivered the sass right back. My sass and his sarcasm made for a good time. It was never boring.
We hopped on the 6 to head to my place and continued to hold hands and push each other, just giggling.
Josh looked at me and said, “You’re crazy, but I love it. Never a dull moment with you. I always knew I would get you.”
As I sat on the train, adoring this dreamy bearded man from Massachusetts who adored me and found my quirkiness to be charming, I got a terrible feeling in the pit of my stomach.
You see, we began our fling only three weeks before my scheduled date to fly back home to Arizona. We were on week two, and there wasn’t much time left to spend together. But it didn’t seem to matter. We continued anyway, knowing that it wouldn’t last, but still, my optimism would later be my downfall when I couldn’t seem to let it go.
STAYING THE NIGHT
We nestled in my twin size bed.
There was barely enough room for the two of us but Josh is very slender so it was OK.
All the lights in my apartment were off but I pulled open the blinds to let the city lights twinkle in.
I lay my head on his shoulder with his arm wrapped around me and watch the light change on his chest as cars sped through the streets. The sounds of car horns and bus engines, pedestrians and bicycle bells were completely zoned out, and the only sound I cared about was his steady heartbeat. He kissed my forehead and told me goodnight, and at that moment I had to use every logical ounce of my brain to avoid saying the words, “I love you.” I had been with him for less than two weeks, it was too soon for that and my mind told me that I was crazy. I refrained from saying it to avoid labeling what I felt. Because at the end of the day, it didn’t matter what it was that I felt. We both felt it. It didn’t need explaining or petty words to give it meaning. We just accepted it.
I kissed his hand as it wrapped around me and said, “Goodnight, Josh.”
I had never slept better.
FOUR DAYS LATER
I was so furious, I could cry.
I didn’t really understand why though. I liked him. I really liked him. But we weren’t anything. Anything at all. We were just “having fun.” And I suppose that was the difference between Joshua and I.
Only one of us could bear the thought of wanting something more.
I wanted to speak to him, I wanted to see what was going on. But I couldn’t do it.
So I did what any ordinary spinster writer would do.
I posted a blog post about him. And that’s when things quickly fell apart.
to be continued…